The Highways Are Jammed With Broken Heroes
by Havah Kinny
Summary: Nate disappeared for 3 months, then one say, all of a sudden, he's back. Physically, he's alright, but mentally he has been destroyed. No one seems to be able to get through to him except for Shane, but is one person enough to help Nate? Potential slash.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N Alright, so this is a new story, written to replace the recently completed Separation Anxiety. The ages are a bit different - Nate is 18, Shane is 21 and Jason is somewhere between 18-23, I'm not sure.

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Nathan Walker had been missing for three months; gone, off the record with no traces, no leads concerning his disappearance, and then, one day, without any warning, he was back. Not back at work, not back at his usual haunts, just…back. The hunt for him had almost been closed, nearly dismissed and Nate had been a couple of weeks from presumed dead by those who still held on to even a glimmer of hope, people like Shane Grey. Until Shane got a call – got _the _call that changed everything. Again.

"Hello?" Shane answered the phone, his voice tired and hollow, tone mimicking the way he felt and looked. Nate had been his best friend and even though he hadn't known Nate the longest by any stretch of the imagination, he cared for Nate more than almost anyone who knew him. Needless to say, after Jason and Nate's direct family, it was Shane who was hit hardest by the disappearance and, in the end, it was Shane who had filed the missing persons report.

"Shane, it's Jason."

"I know." Shane nodded, automatically recognizing the voice.

"They found Nate."

"What?" Shane nearly dropped the phone, his response barely the ghost of a whisper, his jaw falling and the color draining from his face. "Where? How? When? Is he alive? Is he ok?"

"Slow down." Jason's voice was calm, quiet and patient. He didn't sound excited, and that scared Shane. "One question at a time."

"Is he alive?" Shane went with the most important question on his list, the one that would make all of the others either matter or seem indifferent, depending on the response.

"Yes." Jason's words permitted Shane a sigh of relief, and he lay back on his bed.

"Where did they find him?" Shane asked.

"It's twisted." Jason paused. "They found him in New Mexico."

"Tell me the whole story, Jason." Shane could tell that things were going unsaid – after all, New Mexico itself wasn't as twisted as Jason had made things seem.

"He was in a brothel, Shane. The report said that police found him in a routine bust…it was a lucky break, really, but it wasn't good. I mean it was good that they found him, but not how they found him."

"What was it like?" Shane asked, concerned and worried for his friend.

"Apparently they had kept him one fucking room – they kept all of their 'employees' in solitary rooms with one wrist attached to a long chain so that they could reach the bed, the bathroom and such but not get out."

"Oh my god…" Shane gulped, trying hard not to picture Nate in the situation. "And…how is he?"

"I haven't seen him yet, they just got him back to New York about an hour ago, that's when they called me, up until then only his family knew. From what I've heard, he's in pretty bad shape – I mean physically he's going to be fine, but he's even more underweight than he was before, he's exhausted and he has a lot of, well, bruises and injuries from, um…customers." Jason winced just saying the word and Shane felt like throwing up just thinking about it. This was Nate, _his _Nate, his best friend, the boy that he had refused to give up hope on.

"And…mentally?" Shane asked cautiously, not sure that he even wanted to hear the response.

"Not good." Jason shook his head. "He hasn't said a fucking thing since they got him out. They said that he seems completely calm; no panic attacks, no screaming and no signs of hallucinations, but his mom said that he seems just...empty."

"No." Shane shook his head. "Not Nate."

"I don't know, Shane, really, I don't." Jason bit his lip, trying not to cry as he spoke to Shane. "Look, the label and his friends are being notified of his return, but they are limiting visitors pretty strictly."

"How strictly?" Shane asked.

"Mostly just his family – I can't go." Jason paused. "But you can."

"Wait, why me and not you?" Shane asked, confused.

"Because you filed the missing persons report." Jason shrugged. "I don't understand it, it's some sort of technicality in everything, but apparently they mentioned you and Nate didn't show any signs of objecting – then again, he's not really showing signs of any emotion. They asked me to call you and let you know that if you so choose, you can go see him during normal visiting hours, which are ten to noon and four to seven."

"Oh." Shane bit his lip. He wanted to see Nate, wanted to have proof for himself that his friend was alive, but he wasn't sure that he could stand seeing Nate without his normal life, without his previous animation and visible creativity. "I - I'll go this afternoon." Shane checked the clock. It was one in the afternoon, so he had a few hours to compose himself. It didn't matter, he realized, if he didn't want to see Nate. It wasn't his choice, really. Nate was his best friend and right now, he was scared, weak and alone; it was Shane's responsibility to be there for him, even if it wasn't something that he wanted to do.

"You should," Jason nodded. "And…you know, when you're done, will you tell me everything? I want to go see him but I don't want to put that kind of pressure on anyone right now. His family has enough to deal with without me begging them for visitation rights."

"Jason, you know if you asked I'm sure they'd let you visit."

"I know," Jason nodded. "I just don't feel like it's the right time to ask yet."

"If you're sure," Shane nodded. "I'll tell you everything, I promise."

"Thank you." Jason sounded grateful for Shane's promise. "And Shane…be careful with him, ok? I want him back, I miss him."

"I know, Jason. I do too."

"God, I thought that he was dead, Shane." Jason sighed. "I'm not even sure that I deserve to see him – I gave up on him, almost everyone did; everyone but you."

"Don't beat yourself up." Shane shook his head, even though Jason couldn't see him. "It's not in my nature to lose hope on anything or anyone and there were some times where even I was sure that I would never see him again."

"Do me one more favor?" Jason asked, his voice sounding pained.

"What?" Shane questioned.

"Don't tell him. Please, don't tell him that I lost faith in him, don't tell him that I thought he was dead; as much as I deserve whatever contempt he would feel towards that, I don't think that I could handle it."

"Don't worry." Shane shook his head. "I won't tell him anything like that."

"Thank you. I have to go, but Shane, you take care – and don't forget to report back."

"I won't forget. Thanks for the call." There was no goodbye, just the clicking sound on the other end of the phone that let Shane know Jason was gone. With that, he dropped the phone and grabbed his pillow, pulling it close to his chest, trying as hard as he could to take in all of the information that he had received through the phone call.

Nate was back. He was alive, he wasn't going to die, but he was broken and empty and Shane didn't know whether it would be worse for Nate's body to be broken or his soul.

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_**A/N I hope that you enjoyed the first chapter, let me know what you think!**_


	2. Chapter 2

Shane arrived at the hospital at exactly four in the afternoon and the receptionist pointed him in the direction of Nate's private room. Nate's sister, Courtney, was the only person in the room besides the boy, and she looked upset – almost angry. At first, Shane didn't look at Nate, too scared to let his eyes fall onto his damaged best friend.

"What's wrong?" Shane asked, going to sit next to Courtney.

"He won't talk to me!" She let out an exasperated sigh. "Mom couldn't take it, she left, and dad had to go to work. They told me that it's best if someone stays with him at all times, but I can't stand it! He just…lies there! I've tried everything to get him to talk!"

"Why don't you go have some rest," Shane offered. "I'll stay with him for a few hours."

"Really?" She stood up quickly, clearly trying to get out before Shane had the chance to change his mind. "You're a good friend, he's lucky to have you."

"I have to leave at seven!" Shane called as she walked out the door. Courtney just nodded as she left the room. Once Courtney was gone, Shane finally chanced a look at Nate. He was lying perfectly still in the bed, a couple of bandages on his pale skin and a dark circle around his left eye, as though someone had punched him. Shane didn't even want to know where else the boy had bruises, seeing Nate staring off into space as though he didn't even notice Shane's presence was hard enough. Shane bit his lip. If Courtney couldn't get Nate to talk then that meant Nate didn't want to talk, and if Nate didn't want to talk, he shouldn't have to. He had been through so much, or so it sounded, and it was not fair for people to come in, trying to force him to communicate.

Instead of talking to Nate, Shane looked at him for a second before standing up and moving the chair so that he was facing the same direction as Nate. Shane sat down, following Nate's line of vision up towards the ceiling. He didn't attempt to speak or start a conversation, he just sat there, close to Nate, looking upwards towards the exact same spot as Nate.

Despite his silence, Shane took in every possible aspect of Nate's presence. He listened to every breath that Nate took, clinging to every sound that Nate made as he ever so slightly readjusted himself on the bed – every sound that meant that he was alive. Shane didn't check the time, he didn't stare at Nate, he didn't take out his book and start to read or listen to his iPod, he just sat there with Nate, keeping silent and looking at the ceiling as though it were a group activity. Courtney came back at seven, alerting Shane that he had to leave, despite his wish to stay with Nate.

"Did you get him to talk?" She asked. "If anyone can, it should be you."

"Nope." Shane shook his head. "He doesn't seem ready to talk yet, so I didn't push it – why don't you try just sitting with him? It might help."

"What?" Courtney frowned. "Shane, you're crazy!" She shook her head.

"Maybe." Shane tilted his head to the side. "But until he gives me a sign that he wants to talk, I'm going to assume that he would prefer silence." With that, Shane turned away, leaving Nate with his sister.

As he had promised, he called Jason and told him what had gone down. He went back the next morning at ten, this time relieving Nate's father from his position. Again, Shane just sat with Nate, eyes on the ceiling, until a nurse came, telling him to leave. He was back at four and he spent another three hours just sitting with Nate. Shane did the same thing for a week – just sitting silently with Nate for five hours a day. On that Friday, however, when he got to Nate's room, he was horrified by what he saw.

"TALK TO ME!" Nate's mother was looking angrily at her son as she spoke with a raised voice. "WHY CAN'T YOU JUST SAY SOMETHING!" She grabbed Nate's shoulders, shaking him, and Shane couldn't take it.

"Leave him alone!" Shane pulled her away from Nate. "Don't shake him like that – can't you see he's been hurt?" Shane frowned; she should have known better. "He'll talk when he's ready to talk and the more you try to expedite that process, the longer it's going to take to happen." Shane kept his tone of voice in check, being careful not to frighten Nate with shouted words. "Come back at seven and try again."

Shane's statement was final, it was absolute and Nate's mother turned and exited the room, leaving the two young men alone. Shane sat down in his chair, feeling angry at Nate's mother, though he tried not to show it. As he waited in silence with Nate, he could hear his friend desperately trying to bring his breathing back down to a normal level and it was clear that his mother had scared him. Shane didn't know what to feel – he too had been scared by Mrs. Walker's actions and he was afraid that Nate was damaged beyond repair. One quick glance at Nate was enough to know that he was broken. His eyes were just as empty as they had been the first day that Shane had gone to see Nate and there was still a sizeable white bandage around Nate's left wrist, presumably from where the chain had kept him captive.

With every breath that Nate took, Shane worried that he might never get his friend back, but every time Nate moved in bed, Shane clung to the hope that he could help Nate. That day, Shane's last three hours flew by. Shane's thoughts were full of questions and spawning ideas – innovative, crazy ideas about how to help Nate, but as always, the power of silence won out and Shane could think of no stronger way to help Nate, nothing better than just sitting with him, sharing the quiet room as though it belonged to the both of them. By the time the nurse appeared in the door, Shane was almost sure that only an hour had passed, two tops – he wasn't ready to leave Nate, not just yet.

"Shane," the nurse smiled softly at him; since he had been visiting Nate for a week, the nurses had gotten to know him, at least they had in theory. "It's time for you to go."

Shane nodded and it wasn't until he tried to stand up that he realized Nate was clinging to a fistful of his black shirt. He didn't know how long Nate's grasp had been there, but he sensed that it had not developed solely in the last few minutes. He looked at Nate, and despite what Shane had expected, Nate looked back at him. However, the gaze was more surprising than the action itself; Nate's brown eyes were no longer empty but full of pain, sorrow and a silent plea.

"I can't leave," Shane stated.


	3. Chapter 3

"No, I don't suppose you can." The nurse shook her head, smiling a genuine smile as Nate silently communicated with Shane. She turned to leave, but before she did, she looked back over her shoulder at the two young men. "Whatever you're doing, Shane, it's working. Nate is very lucky to have you."

Shane knew that the words were important, but he barely heard them as he settled back into his chair. As he silently made it clear that he wasn't going anywhere, Nate continued to fist Shane's shirt as though it were the only object in the world that his hand wouldn't pass through. Shane felt the importance of Nate's eyes on him and he slowly, carefully turned the chair so that he was facing Nate, looking into those heartbreakingly gorgeous eyes.

It hurt to see so much pain in his friend's expression, but Nate was showing emotion, and nothing could scare Shane more than Nate's previous, blank stare. Shane could feel his phone repeatedly vibrating against his hip, but he didn't break any of the minimal contact that he had finally made with Nate – he was afraid that if he so much as reached into his pocket to switch off his phone, he might lose the progress that had been made.

"What is he still doing here?" Shane's unwavering gaze nearly faltered as he heard the voice of Nate's mother outside, clearly raised to the nurse. "He's not a family member and I will _not _give permission for him to stay longer than the select visiting hours!"

"With all due respect," the nurse began, "it's not solely up to you. Your son is 18 years old, and by reaching out to Shane Grey he has overridden your request to restrict Shane to the regulated visitation hours." Shane frowned, hoping that Nate could tune this out.

"Reaching out? How can you tell he's reaching out if he won't fucking speak?" Nate's mother spoke with a biting tone of voice.

"He is _literally _clinging to Shane," the nurse retorted. "If you don't believe me, go ahead and see for yourself." Shane didn't look, but he was sure that Nate's mother was looking into the room and he feared the reaction that was sure to follow.

"That is MY son! I should be the one that he's holding onto!" Shane gulped slightly as he heard the backlash, but kept his focus on Nate.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but in cases like Nate's, things like this sometimes don't make sense. Everyone has been handling your son's situation differently; we had no idea who, if anyone, was doing what Nate needed – it turned out that someone was and it happened to be Shane's method that worked. You should be happy that your son is making progress, not angry because it's not your t-shirt he's clinging to." Shane felt a huge swell of admiration for the nurse as she attempted to set Nate's mother straight. The argument died down, and Shane was able to turn his full attention to Nate.

Shane looked at Nate, focusing on the young man's eyes, trying to find and read some sort of reaction to the conversation that they had over heard, but all that he could see was the same pain and broken sorrow that had been there wince they first made eye contact. Nate's ability to deny a physical reaction made Shane wonder if maybe what he had hoped for _had _happened – perhaps Nate had been able to tune out the dissent between his mother and the nurse. The pain that Nate felt was evident not only in his eyes, but in the one other form of communication that the men had. The grip that Nate had on Shane's shirt was far tighter than necessary; his knuckles were almost white from the force he was exerting to hold onto Shane.

Shane wanted to tell Nate that even if he let go, Shane would stay, but he didn't want Nate to feel as though the tight grasp annoyed him in any way. Nate was clinging to Shane out of some sort of necessity and Shane wasn't about to deny him that in any way, shape or form.

Nate held onto Shane for hours. He didn't let go when the doctor came in to check on him, he didn't let go as the nurse fed him his dinner, he didn't even let go when the doctor came back late that night to change Nate's drip, adding some drug to aid Nate in a dreamless sleep. Only once the drug kicked in and Nate began to fall asleep did his grip relax, but still, Shane didn't leave. He rested his head on the side of Nate's bed and closed his eyes, falling asleep determined to be the first thing that Nate saw when he woke – this was the way that he knew of to let Nate know that, even if he wasn't holding tightly to him, Shane would be there, he wouldn't leave Nate alone.

Shane woke up before Nate, surprised by how rested he felt despite the pain in his neck from the angle that he had slept in. Nate hadn't moved at all and his hand was still resting right beside Shane's shoulder, where he had been holding tightly to the shirt the day before. Shane stayed where he was, not wanting to be the reason that Nate woke up. He didn't know how much sleep Nate had been getting since he disappeared, but he knew that Nate's medical report had specified exhaustion. This was not the first time that Shane had seen Nate asleep, but it was the first time that Shane had watched Nate sleep. Shane instinctively monitored the way that Nate's chest was rising and falling as his medically regulated breath moved through his body.

In the three months that he had been gone, Nate had not only lost all of the weight that he had gained since and during their last tour, but some extra as well, and his hair curly hair had grown shaggy. Nate's skin was pale – more so than Shane had ever seen it, and it displayed a strikingly stark contrast to both his brown hair and the fading, but still visible ring around his left eye. Shane didn't understand how anyone could beat Nate; Nate had always been beautiful and everybody knew it, himself included, and Shane couldn't fathom how anyone would mar that beauty for any reason.

As the thought pulled at his mind, Nate slowly opened his eyes, looking at Shane with the same, silent expression as before – hurt, sad and needy. Shane bit his lip, cautiously and slowly extending his right hand to Nate. He was surprised when Nate looked down at it, and even more surprised when slender, cool fingers met his, not holding his hand, just barely resting in his palm.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N I am so, so sorry guys...I thought that I had updated because it's been a long week, and then, after I moved to my dad's house, leaving all of my writing files at my mom's for three days, I was informed that I hadn't. This was the soonest I could update and I'm so, so sorry.**_

_**-Havah

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Shane looked at Nate, an understanding expression on his face as he let the hand rest in his. He had held Nate's hand a hundred times before, but never had it been like this, never had he felt so determined to maintain the contact, so convinced that if the cold hand in his moved away, he would have failed. He wanted so badly for Nate to talk to him, to tell him what had happened, what was wrong, but more importantly, he wanted Nate to tell him what he could do to help. However, Shane seemed to understand one thing that the rest of Nate's family did not. What Shane was doing was slowly easing Nate out of his terrified shell, slowly bringing him into the light.

Over the next few days, Shane rarely left the room. He showered when Nate was being washed by the nurses, he slept when Nate slept and he ate when Nate ate. Sometimes, if Nate hadn't fallen sleep clinging to Shane's shirt or lightly holding his hand, Shane would go outside, call Jason, walk a little, and think about how this was ever going to get better, but other than that, he lived and breathed for Nate.

"Hey." Shane turned around one day almost a week later to see Courtney standing in the doorway. It had been awhile – since Shane had heard Nate's mother fighting with the nurse, he had not seen any member of the Walker family. "Um…how is he?" she asked, entering the room and sitting down, her eyes catching the way Nate was holding Shane's hand, this time his fingers actually slightly curled around the older man's palm instead of just lying there, flat.

"I don't know," Shane admitted. "His vitals are pretty good but he's still not talking and he's still weak."

"I see." Courtney looked over Nate's body. Most of the bandages were gone and the black eye was nothing more than a barely visible bruise. The only really noticeable injury was the red mark on Nate's wrist left by the chain. "The nurse told me that you've been taking care of him."

"Not taking care of him." Shane shook his head. "I'm just sitting with him, letting him know that I'm here for him no matter what."

"Well whatever it is, the nurse says that he's getting better, and she said that it's at least a little bit thanks to you." Courtney turned her gaze from Nate to Shane. "My family should be ashamed for the way that we have been handling this situation, and Shane, you've really been there for him when my parents just get worse and worse; they won't come to visit him but they spend day after day looking for a mental institution to place him in once the hospital releases him."

"What?" Shane turned to face Courtney, eyes wide with apprehension. "They can't do that! You can't be serious! But it's…it's Nate! They can't put him somewhere like that!"

"Well they can't take care of him and the hospital won't keep him forever." Courtney looked down, clearly ashamed of her family's decision. "From what we've heard, Nate will be released from the hospital soon, as his vitals are going up and he isn't really sick. Once he is free to go, though, he's going to need practically constant care and we just can't give that to him."

"Fine," Shane sighed, turning away from Courtney and looking back at Nate. He said nothing more to Courtney the whole time that she was there, choosing instead to focus on Nate – holding his hand a little tighter and smiling at him. Even though he hadn't been a part of the conversation, he had still been present, meaning he had still heard what Courtney had said, and though Shane wasn't sure, he thought that he detected a slightly heightened sadness in Nate's eyes.

"Do you need anything?" Courtney asked as she stood up after sitting for almost an hour.

"_I_ don't." Shane shook his head and they both looked to Nate, as though hoping that just maybe he would say something – ask for something. Of course, Nate just stared at Shane with his unchanging eyes, ignoring the fact that his sister was there entirely.

"Well…I'll be back when I can," she smiled sadly at both young men before exiting. Shane put his left hand over his right, holding Nate's hand between the two.

"Nate," he said quietly. "I know that you're not up for talking, and that's ok, I just want you to know that I'm pulling for you. You're going to end up ok if I have anything to say about it." After speaking, Shane fell silent, drifting back into the state of quiet communication that he and Nate had become so good at sharing.

"Shane?" The nurse entered the room with two trays off food about an hour and a half later. "Are you guys ready to eat now?"

"Yes." Shane nodded; after all, that was as good of a time as any. "Hey." Shane directed his statement at the nurse as she turned to leave after setting the food down.

"What is it?" she asked, tilting her head to the side with a gentle smile.

"How long is it going to be before Nate is released from the hospital?" he asked, biting his lip. The longer the hospital would keep him, the longer Nate would have before he was shipped off to some unfriendly mental institution where people were only helping him because it was their job.

"Um, hold on." The nurse took the chart from the base of Nate's bed and perused it for about a minute before setting it back in its holder and looking up at Shane. "It looks like his physical injuries are healing very well and his nutrition is improving, so I would say he has one or two more days tops. He is making good progress, well, physically."

"Thank you." Shane nodded, letting out a deep sigh.

"You are welcome." She smiled at him. "Would you like me to stay and feed him?" She usually didn't ask, she usually just fed Nate while Shane ate, but today, Shane shook his head.

"No, I can do it tonight." He looked between the nurse and Nate. "Thank you." The nurse said nothing more; she just turned and left with a polite wave. Shane looked at the food, cutting up a piece of chicken. However, before the fork got close to Nate's mouth, Nate raised his hand, grabbing Shane's hand, preventing the food from reaching its intended target. "Nate?" Shane looked at his friend, worry on his face. "Are you alright?"

"P-please," Nate started, his voice shaky and quiet. "Don't…don't let them take me to one of those places."


	5. Chapter 5

Shane tried hard to regain his composure as he stared, slack-jawed, at Nate. "I…Nate, don't worry." Shane shook his head, lowering the fork and looking seriously at the young man. "If you don't want to, I won't let them take you anywhere that you don't want to go, ok?" Nate just nodded, looking down, away from Shane. Shane's gaze followed Nate and he noticed that, for the first time since he had been rescued, at least that Shane had seen, Nate was crying. He gulped as he watch the quiet tears fall to the bedspread, and for some reason that he couldn't explain, he reached out, covering the area that they were falling on with his hand so that the hot, salty, water fell in drops on his hand.

Nate continued to cry, the tears slow, but steady, and just as silent as the previous days that they had shared without a single spoken word between them. After almost ten minutes, Shane moved the trays of food out of the way. He was unable to take seeing Nate like this, he couldn't watch his best friend be destroyed by someone else's actions. He reached out with both arms, tentatively hoping that Nate would react.

Nate sniffled, looking up at Shane's open arms. He stared for a few seconds, his eyes darting quickly between Shane's face and his arms before Nate slowly moved forwards, allowing Shane's embrace to circle around him. Nate's head rested gently against Shane's shoulder and the tears fell onto his neck, seeping through his shirt and burning Shane's skin with sorrow and empathy for the pain that he could never understand. Shane began to rub soft, slow circles on Nate's back, keeping them in silence for a few minutes more as he attempted to stop the tears. He knew that his tender hold was having a positive effect on Nate; he could feel the fragile body shake, but he could also feel that shaking slow as he rubbed the young man's back.

"I've got you," he whispered gently after almost five minutes. "No one will hurt you, I've got you now and you're safe with me. They won't take you to an institution; they won't take you away from me." Shane spoke with a determination that he hadn't felt until that moment, but despite having not thought his words through, he was sure that he was only saying the truth. "I will make sure that you are taken care of Nate, and the only way that I can do that is if I take care of you myself." Shane paused, trying to read Nate's reaction to his statement. "Is that alright with you?" he asked gently. "Is it ok with you if I take you home when they let you out? Help you get back to as much of who you were before as is possible?"

Shane knew that so many other people would have told Nate that he would go back to the way he was, that so many people would have worded what he said differently. Maybe they would have said it because they believed that it truly was possible to bring back the old Nate Walker in his entirety or maybe they would have said it just to give Nate hope that it was possible, but lying and implanting false hopes wasn't Shane's style; he wouldn't do that to Nate. It was clear to Shane that whatever had happened to Nate was irreversible, that Nate would never forget the experience that he had been forced into, he would never return to the state that he had been in before his disappearance, but Shane was also aware that this didn't mean things were over for Nate. Maybe he couldn't become who he had been, but he was still capable of becoming someone who was happy and secure; that was all that Shane could hope to give him.

"Please." Nate spoke the word softly, his words brushing against Shane's neck with a soft, pleading whisper. "Take me home, don't leave me somewhere I can't find you." Nate had been resting in Shane's embrace, his body limp in Shane's arms, but now Nate's arms slowly, very loosely, wrapped around Shane's torso, clinging to him in the only way that he could, and that was enough for Shane.

"I won't let you out of my sight for any longer than I have to at any time," Shane vowed. "When they release you from here, you can come with me and I won't make you do anything that you don't want to do, I won't make you see anything or do anyone that you can't handle."

"Th-thank you." Nate's arms tightened slightly around Shane and Shane held the young man a little closer.

"You don't have to thank me, Nate," Shane whispered. "I don't want you to be damaged, I don't want you to cry and feel like no one is on your side, because I am, Nate. I will do whatever it takes to make you whole again. It will be a different whole than it was before, but you'll be ok. I won't let it happen any other way."

"Will you…will you sit up here with me?" Nate asked, his voice still only a ghost of a whisper.

"Of course." Shane nodded, working for a minute or two to get onto the bed without letting go of Nate. They didn't speak again that night. Shane held Nate, just letting Nate cry all of the tears that he had been keeping in. He knew that this was just one way for Nate to let out some of the pain and horror that was trapped inside of him, and if it would help even a little, tiny bit, then Shane would have let him cry for days, if he had to. But it didn't take days, just about an hour, maybe a little longer. An hour that took all of the energy Nate had.

By the time the nurse came to collect the food trays, Nate was drained. He lay on the bed, curled into Shane's arms, his head burrowed in Shane's chest as the older man held him tightly, making sure that Nate felt as secure as possible. He said nothing when the nurse entered, not wanting to wake Nate, and he didn't move. He just let the nurse remove the uneaten food as he held Nate close, taking careful notice of every single soft, regular breath that left Nate's body. Shane had made a promise to Nate, an oath to protect him, and that had started the second that he had made it. It was his job to look after Nate now, and he was determined not to fail, no matter what the cost.


End file.
